


We Live in a Beautiful World

by Cyane



Series: Erik Lehnsherr & Peter Maximoff [4]
Category: X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse Fix-it, Broken Bones, Broken Families, Broken Promises, Drunken Confessions, Erik Has Feelings, Erik is a Father, Father-Son Relationship, Flashbacks, Gen, Honestly Charles What Are You Thinking, Hurt Peter, Insomnia, Long Shot, Minor Character Death, Mutant Powers, Nightmares, Peter tells Erik, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Erik, Triggers, X-Men: Apocalypse Spoilers, dadneto
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-09
Updated: 2016-08-09
Packaged: 2018-08-07 15:34:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7720228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cyane/pseuds/Cyane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>His heart was screaming at him, telling him that he couldn't save all those people. He couldn't save his precious Nina, he couldn't save his lovely wife. He couldn't save any of them- he didn't. He lost that chance. What remained of his family was dead. Everyone.</em> </p><p>  <em>But he had the chance to save Peter.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	We Live in a Beautiful World

Erik saw it all.

He watched, impressed, as the boy got a few hits in. He was stronger than he looked. And anyone that could manage to _hit_ Apocalypse got respect in Erik's book. It didn't matter if they were against each other- he could respect that mutant, because he was fighting just as hard as Erik. 

But he kept watching.

He found himself unconsciously rooting for the kid.

He watched as En Sabah Nur trapped Peter's foot, he watched as Peter struggled, horrified at the prospect of not being stuck. Not being able to run, for once. No escape. It was rather fascinating and gut-wrenching to witness, honestly. It made Erik's stomach twist as the boy struggled and tried to fend off Apocalypse. 

No such luck.

In one move, Peter's arm was twisted violently, and in another, his leg was completely snapped in a different direction, causing him to scream out in agony. Erik could hardly imagine what that would've felt like. The boy wasn't running anytime soon. Running was his life. Running was his _everything_.

To take away a mutant's power... 

Erik thought back to those years he stayed in the Pentagon prison, without any source of metal whatsoever. It was a deep ache, a numbness, a hole that you could never quite fill. He thought back to Charles, when he took the serum that kept his telepathy away. He thought back to when Charles was shaking and half-mad, to when he had lost all hope and hadn't left the mansion in years.

To take away a mutant's power was to take away part of their soul. Part of their very essence. 

More screaming came from the boy, and Erik closed his eyes briefly. He thought back to Nina. He thought back to his wife, those screams that haunted him every night in dreams. That kid had to be in absolute agony. He opened his eyes again, wondering why he was having such an emotional reaction to someone he didn't know.

He saw Apocalypse glare vacantly at Peter, who was writhing in an awkward position, not quite able to lie or sit, but in too much pain to continue standing. He had collapsed into a position that could only be more painful, but he couldn't get up. So Erik watched when En Sabah Nur tangled a hand in Peter's silver strands- and then he remembered.

He could never forget that hair.

Silver.

 _Peter_. 

_Peter!_

It was the boy from the Pentagon- it was the kid who had broken him out, it was the kid who had taken out guards in a matter of seconds, who had duct-taped another guard in the elevator, who had saved Erik's life, who risked his own because he was bored. 

If it was anyone else, Erik wasn't sure he would have cared.

But that was all it took: recognition. And so he felt himself rushing forward as Apocalypse roughly tugged Peter's head back, so his Adam's apple was bobbing anxiously. Quite frankly, Peter looked terrified, and he was right to be so. Erik looked around.

Storm was watching the events unfold, her eyes debating. Fighting themselves. She wanted to help. This was wrong. 

This was wrong.

Erik wasn't quite running, really. He was slowly, step by step, coming forward, each step growing more angry and impatient, but more hesitant. His mind was whirling, telling him that this boy was worth nothing; that Peter was insignificant and he shouldn't even _care_. His heart, however. 

His heart was screaming at him, telling him that he couldn't save all those people. He couldn't save his precious Nina, he couldn't save his lovely wife. He couldn't save any of them- he didn't. He lost that chance. What remained of his family was dead. Everyone.

But he had the chance to save Peter. Peter Maximoff, a thief, an awkward teenager. Irritating. Dropout.  
That didn't matter.  
So he took another step forward, but his feet stopped. He was only about fifty steps away from where the fight was taking place.

En Sabah Nur had kept tugging Peter's hair back, so he was barely staying upright. If he leaned any further back- 

_Snap!_

The audible crack of another bone on the same leg made Erik flinch slightly, but he was still stuck in a trance; feet rooted to the ground, slightly shaking legs, watching as this happened. His mind was racing but it was also only pulling up a blank. He didn't know what to do.

Peter let out another scream that pierced at his heart. The boy's hands were flailing, trying to push away Apocalypse, trying to keep himself upright so they didn't snap even more. Pained wails tore out of Peter's throat, tears pricking his eyes. 

"My child..." En Sabah Nur said in that low, inhuman voice. 

"I'm _not_ your son!" Peter howled. 

Apocalypse seemed to raise an eyebrow. The sand holding Peter in place blew away, and Erik held his breath, praying that Peter could still manage to get away quickly. Unfortunately the kid seemed to have the same plan, and as soon as he tried to take off, the dark gray mutant ripped back on his hair, and Peter went flying backwards onto his back. Completely vulnerable. 

With a single, powerful kick, Apocalypse had Peter rolling across, groaning, lying flat on his stomach only steps away from Erik. 

Erik met En Sabah Nur's gaze. 

"Finish him." He said, and it was a challenge. 

Peter seemed to realize what was happening, and he looked up at Erik with shock, then horror. Magneto- for he was Magneto- looked towards Storm, who was also watching him with wide-eyes. Whatever he did would change things. 

Whatever he did would change everything. 

The kleptomaniac opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out but a choked sob. So Peter remembered him, and he remembered Peter. 

Erik took in a deep breath. The entire world seemed to hold it's breath. Ororo had taken a few steps forward. She had made her decision- she would go against Apocalypse. And then he saw Raven come around the corner of the rubble, and she froze in shock. The situation was clear, and all eyes were to Erik.

So he looked down at Peter.

Peter was looking at him intently. 

Erik summoned a shard of metal above his shoulder, and hoped that his expression somehow conveyed that he wouldn't kill him. He couldn't kill the kid. Not when he was defenseless, not when he owed him, not when Peter was looking at him, accepting whatever happened to him.

And Peter's eyes shut tightly, and he clenched his jaw, and Erik blinked. Peter thought he was going to die. 

Raven was running forward, snarling, as if she had come to the same conclusion, and Ororo was moving more briskly as well. 

Before anything else, Erik shot the slice of metal right at Apocalypse, and it was done. 

He had chosen. 

\--

After the matter was over, Peter had been sent directly to Hank and into medical care, because apparently getting kicked by a mutant god wasn't the same as a human kick, and he would be lucky if he didn't have a punctured lung. His knee was shattered, his bone was broken twice, as well as a compound fracture, he had severe bruising around his left foot and all along his stomach, torso, right leg, scalp, and a rather nasty line of bruising against his face.

Afterwards, Charles admitted that everyone had seen the entire thing, and his telepathy had been going haywire, so he had witnessed it as well. He told Erik, once again, that he had proved what a good person he was. That he wasn't the monster they had seen. 

Charles was also bald, and he looked younger than ever. 

"You should go see him." Charles finally said one day. 

"Why?" He had tried to keep his voice nonchalant, because _why?_ Why did he care about Peter?

The truth of the matter was, Charles was letting him do what he saw fit, and therefore Charles wasn't even going to convince him to stay. Secretly Erik didn't think he would argue if someone tried to get him to stay. The only reason he was still here was, regretfully, Peter.

"You saved his life."

Erik snorted. "I _didn't_ kill him. There's a difference, Charles."

\--

He did end up going to see him, just because he had to. 

He had thought about Peter's words for the last days, thinking carefully and mulling over what they could have meant. _"I'm your-"_ and _"I'm here for my family, too."_

Erik was genuinely curious to what Peter would have said. He was his what?

But there he was, sitting in the god-awful plastic chairs in the waiting room. Ororo and Raven were just about to leave. Apparently Storm and Peter had found that despite the entire ordeal, they liked each other and they got along very well. Neither of them had ever had many friends, so Erik was... well, glad. 

It was also surprising to hear, but Raven and Peter were close as well. Erik had a vague suspicion that it had something to do with how they both hated their physical appearance. (He had overheard Ororo telling Peter that his hair was fine, and Erik couldn't agree more; although it was unusual, it hardly compared to having blue skin or fur or wings. Why on Earth was that boy self-conscious?)

Then the door swung open and Storm stepped out, grinning widely, although her eyes were rimmed with red and she looked as if she had been crying. Raven followed shortly, smirking. 

She stopped when she saw Erik.

"Why are you here?"

Erik tried not to feel offended. He and Raven weren't exactly on good terms, despite Erik changing sides. He had seen the immense relief in Raven's eyes when Erik hadn't killed Peter- it was in Ororo's eyes as well. It had been in Charles' eyes the moment he had seen Erik afterwards. It had been in everyone's, because to loose Peter Maximoff was to loose a very bright, energetic, hilarious kid who had a life that Erik knew absolutely nothing about. 

He was glad that he was alive. 

"I'm here to see him. Just as you are." He said calmly. Raven's yellow eyes narrowed. "Yeah? I'll go with you, make sure you don't kill him." 

That time it was harder not to feel offended. 

"Unnecessary, Mystique." 

He watched her fidget. Obviously she wasn't sure yet if she was Mystique or Raven, and it was hard to tell. She wasn't Raven anymore, that much was clear... but she wasn't exactly Mystique, either. Besides the point, however, she eventually let it go.

"Last I saw you, you were trying to tear Earth apart."

"Last you saw me, I was saving Peter's life."

She glared at him. "You contemplated it. Killing him." 

He said nothing. He ignored it completely. Raven was strong, but her self-control couldn't be as strong as his. She would give up eventually. He could already feel her resolve cracking. "Why didn't you?" She sounded curious, that time, instead of harsh.

"I owe him."

"For what?"

"Breaking me out of the Pentagon."

"That's it?"

Erik frowned. "He helped me, I helped him. Nothing more."

Raven threw up her arms in exasperation. "The reason I'm going to let you go in there is because you didn't kill him, and because he probably wants to see you right now. You scared him nearly half to death, though, but I'm betting that he's only grateful you didn't impale him."

That explanation was doing nothing for Erik's spirit. 

"Right."

After giving him a hard look, Raven took off after Ororo, leaving him alone. Did he want to go in there and face Peter? Face the boy he had almost killed- that he was supposed to kill, that he _could've_ killed? 

Did he want to? No.

Was he going to? Most definitely. 

\--

Luckily for Peter, his mutation also gave him accelerated healing, and so with what should've taken months to heal was only taking weeks. Still, that must seem like years to Peter, but it was still incredibly fortunate that he wouldn't be out of action for long. 

"Hey, man." His voice was raspy. 

Erik blinked and walked into the room, sitting down at a nicer metal chair by the medi-bed. Peter's forehead was still half discolored in bruises, and although his legs were under a blanket, the metal-bender could tell that he was twitching everywhere, dying to get up and _run_. 

"How are you feeling?"

Peter laughed sardonically. "Fan-fucking-tastic, dude. I can't run, I can't walk- heck, I can't even get _up_ and _stand_!" The whiny voice was a bit lighter than Erik had anticipated, so he couldn't help the half smile that washed over his face.

After a moment Peter smiled. "Thanks for not killing me, back there. That would've sucked."

"I suppose it would've... sucked."

Peter grinned at him. "Yeah, so thanks. I thought for a moment you were going to man, but then you just totally snapped right back into action and threw the metal at that Apocalypse guy, which was _totally badass_!" 

And now Peter was thanking him. It was odd. Erik honestly didn't think everyone should be so happy he didn't kill someone, because when that person was Peter, the only person who could _want_ him dead were monsters.

(Then again, he'd killed so many people that everyone probably expected it.)

(That thought theft him uneasy.)

"You have nothing to thank me for, Peter." 

There was a flash of anxiety and worry in Peter's eye, but it was gone in a moment and then he was trying to sit up, which looked incredibly painful. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever, man. You're still my hero." Peter said it calmly with his voice even, but he couldn't meet Erik's gaze afterwards. 

Hero.

Erik doubted he'd ever get that title again. He doubted he ever got that title. 

Nina had called him that, sometimes. Unfortunately he hadn't been her hero, he had been her downfall. His dear, sweet Nina... the beautiful girl who shouldn't have been put in a world like this. 

"Fuck- I'm sorry, that was weird," Peter hurriedly continued when Erik didn't respond. "You know what, just forget I said that! Like, thanks and everything, but... uhh... yeah, well I can't remember where I was going with that. Anyway, thanks for stopping by. I would've come up and thanked you, but y'know, I can't walk or anything."

God, that kid's mind moved fast. No wonder Charles had admitted to never going inside of it. It must be a nightmare for telepaths. 

"Quite all right, Peter."

"Are you going to stay?"

Erik raised an eyebrow in question, although he knew that deep down, he was well aware of what Peter was talking about. 

"Like, as a teacher, or anything? You aren't going right away." Peter said, laughing. "Of course you aren't- we just kicked a mutant with a god-complex's ass and you're gonna leave? No way. What are you going to teach? You should do a language or something."

(Inwardly Peter cursed himself. He knew that he was babbling, but this was his _dad_. He was nervous.)

Erik froze. 

He had been planning on leaving from the start. If Charles asked him to stay, he would've. If Raven asked him, he would've. Honestly, if any random student asked him to stay, he would've in a heartbeat. But instead the students were terrified of him, Charles was letting _him_ choose, and Raven hated him. 

"Should I stay?"

Peter frowned. "Yeah. I mean, sorry, no offense, but where will you go if you don't?"

That hit hard. Erik immediately scowled. Was Peter talking about his family? Poland? How he could never go back? Peter seemed to realize where his mind was going because he raised his good arm in surrender. "Whoa- man, no! Not what I meant, sorry sorry sorry. I meant, that... uh, like. You sort of belong here, you know? You're a mutant, and you just fought with us... and we're family-"

He watched in amusement as Peter turned red and then white and began stuttering, "No! I mean, ah, we're _all_ your family, everyone here. B-because we're mutants, yeah. And, um, wow. This is not how I was planning to, yeah, so. Anyway."

Where did he have to go? He could think of plenty of places. He could think of plenty of reasons why he _shouldn't_ stay. Only he really did want to stay, and so far, Peter was the only one agreeing with him. 

"I'll think about it."

Peter blinked in surprise. 

"What?"

"About staying."

"Why?"

"You just said I should," Erik snapped, feeling slightly irritated. This boy was contradicting himself and he'd be damned if the boy forced him to reveal anything else. 

Peter shrugged. "Why does it matter what I say? I'm just... you don't even know me."

"You're Peter, the one who broke me out of the Pentagon, correct?"

He blushed crimson. "W-well... yeah, and that was _awesome_ , but... that was only because I'm sort of crazy. Like, I go insane if I have nothing to do. I basically followed three random strangers' plan to break into a heavily secured prison, and I couldn't help myself. That's not healthy. What I'm trying to say is, you really don't know me."

There was a sharp bitterness to the words. 

"You're right. All I know is that your name is Peter, I know that you hate your hair,"-Peter let out an indignant squeak-"I know that you have a younger sister, your mutation gives you speed and accelerated healing, and that you're constantly hiding something."

"That's- that's just normal stuff! That's all anyone knows about me!" 

"So no-one really knows you?" 

Peter sighed. "I mean... no. Look, metal-man, the point of this is, that if you don't want to stay, you shouldn't, and if there is even a chance that you want to stay here, then fucking do it. Because if you don't, history is just going to repeat itself. It's happened again and again."

(Like when you didn't stay with my mom and so I never had a father.) 

Erik took in a sharp breath and _glared_. His lip curled. "What do you know about it?"

And that's when Peter burst, and Erik saw it all happen. (He seemed to be watching Peter do everything). "I know _everything_ about it, man!" Peter was nearly screaming. "I know that because of you, people died for nothing! Because of you, people started hating mutants _again_ , and I had to move out for a few weeks because they were after me! And then _they_ died and you joined that frickin'-"

"Sleep."

Peter visibly relaxed and slumped into the medi-bed. His rant was cut off sharply, and his eyes rolled back. Fast asleep.

Erik whirled around and saw Charles rolling next to him, frowning deeply. He rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Charles. You can't put children out whenever you'd like." The now-bald man smiled warmly. "I was afraid he might hyperventilate."

"Yes, that was, rather, er, dramatic."

Charles turned to look at Erik. _Really look_. 

"Don't take it personally- what he said to you," The professor started carefully. "Peter has been going through quite a bit. It's only natural for his emotions to come in bursts, especially since he usually keeps them in check." 

"What happened?"

Charles smirked without humor. At one time, Erik would've never imagined that look on 'innocent'-Charles' face. Unfortunately, after being broken out of the Pentagon, he had seen how wrong he had been about his old friend. 

"You mean, _besides_ the physical injuries he attained with En Sabah Nur?"

"Yes."

"Starting when?"

Erik thought for a moment. "After... after the sentinel presentation." They both shared a look at the phrasing. More like 'stadium showdown'. 

Charles then frowned. "What he said wasn't inaccurate. Mutants were feared for a time afterwards, and it made things harder. Conflicting feelings, going around. Some people had been shown a different perspective; that the only reason we were to be feared was because we were threatened. Others saw that we could easily overpower humans." Erik nodded, trying not to feel awkward. He _had_ been the one to do all this.

The telepath continued. "I didn't keep in check with Peter at the time. After he helped us, I thought that we would never see him again. I can only imagine that after seeing you- a mutant terrorist, forgive my titling- on television, one that _he helped break out_ , he would've been quite scared. Not to mention, the Pentagon had cameras back up as we were leaving, and they captured all of our identification." 

So Peter had been in trouble. He had been wanted for helping Erik, of all people, and when he was being hunted, Charles, Logan, Hank, Erik... they were already doing other things. (Taking over the world?)

"He has a little sister, Wendy, and their- er- mother. I can only assume that they are both human, and he left to protect them."

"Father?" 

Charles paused, looking at Erik carefully. "No. Well, I think that Wendy had one, and that her mother had a husband. I believe that Peter is- and this is just a thought- adopted."

"I see."

"Yes, well. Eventually, it seems, he thought it safe enough to go back home."

"I feel like he knows me, Charles. He looks at me with familiarity, and although it's awkward, he seems to hold a grudge against me for something. Personally."

Charles laughed. "I can't think of anyone else who would hold a personal grudge against you."

"He said 'they died', and then I joined Apocalypse. He wasn't talking about his family, was he?" 

There was a long, long moment of silence, and Charles was honestly unsure of how to respond. (He had been doing his best to keep Peter's secret, no matter the cost, but it really _had_ been his half-family that died. Since his adopted family was still alive and the only people that Peter could've known about were his half-family, it was obvious that it was still on his mind.)

(It seemed that Erik and Peter were all the blood family they had left.)

"He..." Charles trailed off. "His adopted mother and sister are fine." It was a loophole, and Erik caught it, but didn't say anything.

Charles sighed, once again, and continued. He felt tired.  
"Erik, you must realize that this is pent up emotions that Peter is feeling. He can't run. That is probably killing him. Besides, as far as I know, it has less to do with what happened years ago and more to do with the people he just lost. I have a feeling that you, of all people, can relate to what he is feeling."

"What?"

"Erik. This is _exactly_ what happened with you."

"Not 'exactly'." 

"More so than you know, my friend."

\--

"You look at her like a lovesick puppy." Peter deadpanned. 

Ororo snorted. "She is my idol. I want to be like her."

"What, naked and ninja-footed?" 

They both laughed until they saw Raven looking at them from the doorway. Naked, obviously. "I just learned to accept my skin, Peter. Is that such a bad thing?"

He raised his arm- only the good one- in exasperation. "No! It's not a bad thing to love your skin. I'm just sayin' that you walk around with _literally_ no clothes. Like, your decision, I don't judge, but what about me?"

"What are you talking about?" Ororo was stifling laughter again. 

"I'm sayin'," Peter paused for a breath. "That if _you_ can walk around naked just because you like your skin, then why can't I? I love my skin! It's great! Why can't I walk around with nothing on just because I want the world to see my skin?" 

Ororo burst out laughing, collapsing in heaps onto the floor. Raven just rolled her eyes and walked back out, turning only to say,

"If you want to walk around naked, Peter, then do it."

"But I don't _want to_!"

After another minute, Peter smirked and started taking off his shirt, and Ororo was running out of the medical room. 

\--

Erik came in again to see Peter, and only to apologize. 

He had seen Storm running out of the room, crying. It must be bad.

Peter was lying on the bed, a look of concentration on his face, struggling to get his shirt on. Erik raised an eyebrow. 

"Hey, man, I'm stuck. Help."

The t-shirt was halfway on, but it had gotten stuck on the cast on his other arm. Erik walked forward and pulled it all the way off. "You aren't even supposed to be _wearing_ a shirt, Peter. Hank still needs to be able to check on your ribs."

"Yeah, but without it, my stomach looks _weird_."

Erik had noticed that, too. Going by the huge, blossoming bruises covering his rubs where Apocalypse had kicked him. They weren't all the way healed, obviously, but they were better than before. It appeared that Peter's healing factor was actually doing it's job. Also noticing how thin Peter was, he mentioned, "You need to eat more."

Peter burst out laughing. "You know how much I eat? I eat _junk_ , man. Like, sugary, fattening foods. I have to eat seven meals a day, man- you should've seen me as a kid. I'm pretty much always hungry unless I'm sick."

Erik frowned. He could see ribs- not incredibly clearly, and it was obvious that although Peter was tall and lanky, he wasn't a skeleton. He had strong muscles- that running and exercising, probably. "Then why-"

"My metabolism. Not as fast as me, but it might as well."

"I suppose you're constantly running whatever you eat off."

"Yeah. Basically."

Erik frowned at the bruises. "Looks painful."

(This conversation was getting worse and worse. Inwardly Erik cringed at how forced that sounded.)

Peter lit up, however. "Yeah, man! But it was such a rush- when he kicked me, and then I looked up and you were just standing there." He laughed, and Erik wondered how he could be so flippant with the subject. "I thought I was going to _die_ , twice! But all the sudden you and your-"

"Didn't we have this conversation two days ago?"

"Oh- right."

"Sorry about that, by the way."

Peter blinked. "That's alright. I'm really apologizing, though, too. I sort of blew up. Don't worry about it, I've just been stressed out about a few things. Like this _goddamn_ leg." 

Erik smirked. "Yes. I can't blame you for being stressed."

\--

"Peter, I can't get inside your head."

"Why not?"

Charles sighed. "I could, but it would be rather unpleasant for both of us. Your mind moves fast. If I were to enter your mind, you would have a hard time clearing your head, and it might cause you to pass out."

"Oh," Peter snarled. "I thought you did that anyway? Make me pass out?"

"Necessary."

The kleptomaniac smirked. "Yeah, yeah. So, what's the point?"

"I... Peter, I know about _your father_."

That got his attention in milliseconds. "What?! You know... you know that it's- er- it's _him_?"

"Yes."

"Did you tell him?!"

"No."

Peter gasped in relief. Charles frowned. "I wouldn't tell your secret, Peter. It's not mine to tell. However- I now realize that the death of your half-family must... cut deeper than expected."

"Oh," Peter said, releasing a breath. "Well, I mean, yeah. I never really knew them, but the day before they died, I was planning on going up there to see them. I don't know if I was going to tell them or not, but I think so. I just wanted to see the rest of my family."

Charles put a hand on Peter's wrist.

"You still have family, Peter. The X-Men, students at this school, teachers- everyone here. You also have an adopted family that cares very much about you, and a lovely sister. More than that- you still have _blood_ family, Peter."

"I know, but I can't... I can't tell him."

"I am not telling you what to do, Peter, but I am going to encourage you to tell him at some point. He is just as lost as you- just as lonely. It would make you both feel better."

Peter fidgeted with his good hand. 

"Yeah, prof. but, the things is, I'm not really an ideal son, you know? I'm a dropout-"

"Peter."

"No, I'm serious. Erik is this guy who's been through hell, and he just lost his family that he loved. He speaks like, every language ever. He's smart. He's powerful. I doubt he wants a kid like me. We're different. We're _really_ different."

Charles' eyes twinkled. 

"Peter, you're forgetting that your father and I speak often. And we often speak of you, these days."

At Peter's horrified expression, expecting the worst, Charles broke out into a grin. "Trust me Peter, he _cares_ about you. He cares about you and he doesn't know why- because he can feel the connection you two have, although you haven't admitted anything. And for Erik to care about someone... it's a big deal, Peter."

\--

After Peter _finally_ got his casts off (the leg took two days longer than the arm,) and after Peter had spent an hour screaming about how his leg felt weird and how his leg and arm had gotten _smaller_ , he was running again.

He wasn't supposed to be. His ribs had gotten better, although faint bruises still showed. His face looked relatively normal besides the bruise right on the hairline, but that got covered up by silver hair. 

Watching him run, at _first_ , had been hilarious for everyone around.

"Peter, you can't-"

And he was off. He managed to get three feet in front of himself before tripping forward and only staying upright when Raven grabbed him by the collar. It was supposed to be the back of the collar, actually, but she had accidentally gotten a chunk of his hair in there. It kept him up, but it also pulled his hair back. 

Ororo, Raven, Erik, Charles, Hank, Jean, Scott- alright, _lots of people_ watched as Peter turned from his normal self, laughing, to a twisting, lost _madman_. It was actually terrifying to watch.

He ripped himself away from Raven, and she quickly untangled her hand in his hair. He fell to his knees, breathing heavily. 

"Shit..." He mumbled breathlessly. 

"Shit." Erik agreed. 

\--

"Peter, we really do need to discuss it."

"There's nothing to fucking discuss."

\--

Eventually, when Peter refused to talk about it, and just continued focusing on getting his legs back to the beauty of their past, Charles ended up talking to Raven and Erik about it. Almost immediately Raven had a theory.

"It was a flashback." 

Not a theory- a fact. 

"En Sabah Nur- Apocalypse- he had a grip in Peter's hair. Made him defenseless." 

Erik and Raven both shuddered at the memory. Usually Erik wouldn't let something like that get to him- he himself had withstood torture. He had seen horrible, horrible things. This was nothing. But it was the fact that it happened to Peter.

Peter, who hadn't been able to run. 

Defenseless.

That word was not a good one.

Charles nodded briskly. "Yes. I suppose that was rather traumatic for him. For everyone, really, but then again..."

(Nobody else thought their father was going to kill them before they ever had the chance to tell them.)

\--

"You're getting better quickly!"

"Yeah! I'm going to be back in hip-hop shape in no time."

"About what happened when you first got the cast off-"

"..."

"Well, I think that... I mean, you might want to-"

The door slamed in half a second and Ororo sighed.

\--

It became a thing, really. Nobody really touched Peter's hair, and nobody brought it up. Peter seemed normal otherwise, his usual humor lightening the mood as the school was rebuilt. Erik had stayed, for some reason, or he just hadn't left yet.

He was stalling for time and everyone knew it. 

Charles worried that one day Erik would finally leave, and Peter would never get to tell him he was his son. He worried that he would never tell Erik how much he loved him. He worried that Erik would make the same mistakes again and again.

\--

Months passed.

Eventually not even Charles tried to talk to Peter about the flashback(s). 

It wasn't really getting better, though. Charles could hear Peter's nightmares, as well as Jean. Most nights it was obvious that Peter hadn't slept. Ororo was often found in Peter's room late at night, calming him down when he started shaking- vibrating, really. 

Other times Jean, along with Scott and Kurt, came in and tried to chat with him until he fell asleep, exhaustion refusing to let him dream. 

Erik had trouble sleeping, too, but that was nothing new. He went to the third kitchen whenever he couldn't sleep or woke up, and he just drank ice water and coffee or Charles' tea until he could go back to his room and relax. 

It was two in the morning when Peter appeared in the third kitchen. He hadn't noticed Erik, who was sitting against the wall, slightly hidden in shadow. 

"Can't sleep?"

Peter spun around, startled, for once- because he _could_ be startled, no matter what anyone else said. Erik knew that letting Peter know that he was there beforehand would do more good than harm. 

"Uhh... yeah. I guess. You can't either, huh?"

Erik doesn't tell him that it's normal for him. It's normal for Peter, too. 

"Just getting a drink."

"Mhhm. Right." Peter got himself coffee and Erik wondered if that was a good idea. "Nightmares?" Peter turned and bit his lip. "Eh. Yeah. Everyone has them."  
"Usually they aren't memories."

That made Peter flinch. Erik stood up and sat at the bar next to the boy. "You have nightmares, too, right?" Peter asked hesitantly. "I mean, like... memories."

"Yes." Peter speed-gulped down the coffee and folded his arms on the table, setting his chin on his arms. Erik fought off the urge to put an arm on his back. Comfort him. Why did he care about Peter? What made him special to Erik?

They sat like that for a good half-hour, lost in their own thoughts. Erik was shocked that Peter could stay that still for so long. 

"Peter, you can talk to me about it. I realize that what happened... it was..."

Erik looked at Peter and trailed off, and waited another five minutes for a response but got nothing.

"Peter."

"Peter?"

Peter was asleep.

With a small smile, Erik picked him up- because his damn metabolism made him light as hell- and brought him back to his room, where Ororo was waiting anxiously. 

"Is he okay?" She asked immediately. Erik nodded. "He fell asleep. I doubt he'll have nightmares." Storm looked relieved and gave her friend a long look. 

"You're a great... um... person. You know that?"

Erik looked at her, startled. He barely knew the girl, besides the fact that she had worked with Apocalypse. They both had. She had switched her mind to save Peter before Erik had, and so Erik decided that she liked her. Besides, she was always there for Peter, even in the hospital.

"What?"

Ororo shrugged and started walking out. "You're good to him. Just... don't leave, okay? He likes you."

\--

More months passed, seasons changed. 

Things still happened, of course. The world was still adjusting to mutants and all the damage that had been done needed to be answered for. Charles was working harder then ever to keep everyone safe. 

Erik was still there.

He was still there because of Peter, and he stayed because of Peter. But the kid had been right- there was more that he stayed for. Charles, for one. He would've missed Charles like nothing else if he had gone. Charles wasn't a constant, not after the sentinels, but he was always there. 

Raven. Although they weren't considering each other 'friends' yet, the hatred she had felt for him were mostly reduced to a wary distrust. He was still unsure whether to call her Raven or Mystique. Both seemed wrong, coming from him.

He had also grown fond of Ororo, mostly because they had two things in common; they both felt guilt for having joined with Apocalypse in the first place, and two, they both took care of Peter, and that's what was important to both of them. He had met the trio of Jean Gray, Scott Summers, and Kurt Wagner. 

(It was unfortunate that Kurt didn't know Raven was his mother. To have such a close relationship, to be so close to her son, but to not be able to say anything about it... Erik had no idea how that would feel.)

(Peter noticed it too. Another reason he and Raven were so close- they both had a close family member that the other knew nothing about. What a mess.)

Although they were all talented, Erik found that he didn't necessarily _like_ any of those three. Jean was definitely powerful, and Scott was interesting to watch just because he had been Alex's younger brother. (It was also a reminder of bad memories.) Kurt was a bit more likable, if he didn't act like Jean and Scott's son. 

He had grown to like things here. More than he thought.

Peter had been right.

\--

It had started since the first time they had seen one another down there, but the third kitchen had become a place of refuge at night. Erik sometimes came down to see Peter already sitting at the bar, red-rimmed eyes and tear tracks on his face. Sometimes Peter came down later, and he didn't even bother with his powers, he just walked.

Sometimes they talked.

Sometimes they sat in silence for hours.

Sometimes they both fell asleep.

One night, Peter finally opened up. Erik wasn't exactly opening up about his dreams- he didn't want to give Peter _more_ nightmares- but he opened enough that Peter felt comfortable talking about his own. 

And he did, once.

"I can still see it all happening."

Erik knew better than to say anything. 

"I can feel my foot jerking back. I don't know how he did it; probably some of his god-powers, but he trapped my foot and I couldn't move. I remember my arm snapping. I remember him snapping my leg, too. I don't think I've ever been in that much pain. It hurt, yeah, but mostly it was just... I thought... I know it's stupid, but I kept thinking they would amputate it."

He was visibly shivering.

"I know- I'm not a complete idiot, I know that broken legs don't really require amputation, but I was scared to death that I would never run again. I kept thinking, 'If I can't run again, I'm useless,' and don't even try telling me that's not true."

He looked miserable. But although retorts bubbled in Erik's throat, he kept them locked for the time being. 

"That's what really hurt," Peter continued drowsily. "And then that En Sabah Nur guy realized, 'Oh, that's right! He _is_ useless now!' so he released me and I just fell over. But, oh _man_ , I can still feel his hands in my hair-"

Peter broke off, closing his eyes and shaking his head. 

"I could hear his voice in my head. I could hear him saying things and pulling at my hair- god... I wasn't even thinking straight. I thought I was about to die. Just, explode into sand or however he'd been killing people.  
And then he kicked me- and Christ that hurt- and then I saw you."

Erik sucked in a breath.

Peter let out a humorless laugh. "And that's where the memory ends! And you know what? I actually _like_ that memory! It might just be my favorite memory."

"Why?" Erik couldn't help but ask. He remembered it, too. It was not pleasant. 

"Because you saved me," Peter answered honestly. "And so the memory is okay. But the dreams- the dreams aren't the same thing as the memory, and so... and so I look up at you, and you just kill me. Like, no hesitation. You just let it slice through my neck."

Erik felt like he knew this was coming. 

\--

"You aren't worthless. I don't think anyone is worthless."

"I'm good for nothing, except running. Without running I would be nothing, dude."

"You are very good at running. That doesn't mean it's all you're good for."

\--

One Wednesday night, which had become their 'third-kitchen night', Peter _didn't_ come down to the third kitchen, and Erik immediately had conflicted feelings. 

He should be happy, because it probably meant that Peter wasn't having bad dreams. At the same time, all he felt was disappointment, because there had been some nights when Erik actually could sleep, but he came down anyway because he wanted to be with Peter. 

And that particular night he had just woken up from a flashback about, well... Shaw. 

It wasn't unusual, but these days he had a lot more on his mind. Nina. Poland. Fire. Apocalypse. Peter. 

Shaw was a constant.

Shaw would always be there, Erik was sure. 

So Erik sat at the bar, alone, and pretended illogically that Peter was sitting next to him, head on the table, thinking in the quiet. 

\--

That morning, Peter still wasn't around.

Ororo came running into Erik, as soon as the sun rose, immediately screaming out nonsense. Once she had calmed down- taking the word 'calm' _very_ lightly- Erik managed to realize what had happened. "He's gone! He's gone, he's gone- he went to the town, he went to a bar- oh my god, I didn't even notice, and he wasn't doing well..." Ororo shoved a note into Erik's face. "He left it on his bed!"

_Ororo - 174 Grand if you want to come - Peter_

Erik was already down the hall.

\--

It wasn't hard to find Peter. He wasn't exactly hiding, for one thing. He hadn't bothered to hide his hair, which was when Erik realized that something must really be off. He almost _always_ wore a hat outside, at least a hood- something to cover it up.

Silver hair that could be seen from outside.

Erik ran into the bar, and sat right next to Peter. It was a 24/7 bar, and there were still stumbling, drunk people wandering around, waking up, and waiting for rides. Everyone was hungover or still drunk, and Erik was disgusted that Peter had been part of it.

"Peter?" Peter turned towards him and immediately broke out into a grin. Drunk. "It's youu!" He slurred. "Oh, dudee." Peter's expression turned into a frown. "Wait- no. No, no, no, no. I don't like you."

"Really, now?" Erik sighed, and pulled Peter to his feet. "Come on, back home we go."  
"I don't wannn'ta."

Erik realized he had just called that place home. "For god's sake..." With a haul- it really didn't take much effort- Peter was in Erik's arms and they were trekking back to the mansion. 

\--

"You shouldn't've come..."

"I did."

"...why?"

"Because I was worried. So was Ororo."

"Thanks for coming..."

"..."

"Thanks for not killing me..."

"..."

"J'st... thanks, dad."

\--

Erik should've been more surprised when Peter called him dad.

But he really wasn't, at the time. Not at all. He had just hushed Peter and dragged him back to the mansion, taking him to his room, and reassuring a frantic Ororo that yes, Peter was alive, yes, he was okay, and yes, he was extremely hungover.

Only afterwards did he realize that Peter had called him dad.

At the time it had seemed so natural.

\--

"He called me dad."

Immediately Ororo audibly gasped, Raven accidentally dropped her fork onto the floor, Charles' head shot up, and all three of them stared at Erik with intensity. Nobody said anything afterwards.

\--

"I called him _dad_?!" Peter screamed, making Ororo cringe. "I was drunk! I didn't... I couldn't..."

"Just tell him, Peter!"

"I can't!"

"Why not?!"

\--

It was Wednesday again.

Both Peter and Erik were too scared to actually sleep, and it had taken all of his courage to even get downstairs that night. He wasn't sure he wanted to see Erik. He wasn't sure he wanted to see Erik _ever again_ , but he knew that he owed an explanation. 

He had planned everything out. Just say it. Tell him.

When Erik finally came down, Peter let out a breath he didn't even know he had been holding. Erik glanced at him warily, but not unkindly, before sitting in the seat next to Peter's. It made him feel a bit more assured, that he hadn't sat farther away or just kept standing.

Peter passed him a mug of coffee and took another deep breath. His heart was pounding out of his chest.

"Hello." Erik said eventually.

"Oh- yeah, uh- Hi."

"Are you doing alright? You left without telling anyone except for Ororo, and that was with a _note_." Erik watched the younger boy carefully. Peter finally started talking.

"I'm fine. I just- yeah. Okay, I'm going to tell you. So, my mom-" Peter cut off without meaning to. He tried again. "My mom-- well, really, it's my, um, my _dad_..." Erik had a sinking feeling that this was going to be sad, involve Peter getting hurt, and it would have something to do with Peter getting piss-ass-drunk during the night and calling Erik 'dad'. 

He wasn't wrong.

"See, it's a bit more complicated... my dad didn't leave. My mom left him. It was before I was born, and he didn't know that she was pregnant."

"And he was a mutant?" Erik guessed. God- he had lived that story. Wife leaving because of mutant husband.

Peter nodded. "Yeah. Actually, she had twins. She was going to have twins. A girl and a boy. She told them what she wanted the boy-me- to be named, but she didn't know what to name the girl. She was going to wait until she had actually _seen_ her, yeah. But when she was like, giving birth, she died, and so did the girl twin."

So from the beginning, Peter had lived through death. Erik felt the familiar stomach-twist.

"I got put into an adopted family, with a woman who knew my mother. She told me a bit about my mother, a bit about my father, before she left him. I had an adopted father, too, but he died. And a sister, Wendy. Nobody in that family was a mutant, but they didn't seem to mind that I was a mutant. I mean, I was a horrible kid, and I was irritating and I couldn't sit still for five _seconds_ , but they were all really nice."

Erik nodded. More death. He could relate.

"Then, you know... years passed, and I was stupid, so I was a dropout, but I stayed in the basement and sort of, eh, wasted my life away? I had nothing else to do besides steal things and run, so that's all I did. Then one day the professor, and Hank, and Logan showed up. You know how that turned out. We broke you out of the fucking Pentagon," (Peter looked smug even as he remembered doing it. It had been _awesome_.) "And then the reign of the mutant terrorist commenced, and my family watched from the television."

Peter skipped over the part where he had to leave home because he was being tracked, but Erik knew it was there and it didn't help the ache in his chest.

"Then my adopted mother- who was really like an aunt to me- started telling me about my mom, and my father... the guy who could, um... bend metal." There was a long, long moment of silence, and Erik felt his mind spin to life again.

_"You know, my mom knew a guy who could do that."_

"They planned on naming me Pietro because my mom and dad had talked about it, if they ever had a son. Then she left before my dad knew she was pregnant. They changed my name to Peter- started calling me that- when we got to America."

Erik was dumbfounded.

"Her name- my mother's- was Magda. Magda Eisenhardt." Peter added quietly.

\--

Erik stumbled forward in the chair and wrapped his arms around Peter- no, his _son_. He felt tears well up, and he let them freely fall.

Peter caught him, hugging back, and started sobbing too. He buried his face into Erik's shoulder and the two men cried for their remaining family. They cried for everything that had happened, they cried for the years they had spent apart, not knowing who they were missing.

"Pietro..." Erik whispered. It seemed so reminiscent. 

Erik had never held anyone tighter out of love, but he did. He kept Peter close and he held Peter's head in his hands, he threaded his worn, scarred hands through Peter's soft hair that he loathed. Erik liked his hair. 

He felt his son tense under him once there were hands in his hair, and he stopped, but Peter just shook his head and let him continue. 

"'s'not so bad when you do it..." He mumbled. 

\--

Ororo hugged Peter tightly. "I'm glad. You did good." 

When morning came, Peter had woken up next to Erik's sleeping form, tear-streaked and all. He immediately ran to Ororo and burst out crying, telling her what happened. Kurt, Scott, and Jean had come running when they heard crying, and there was so much commotion that Raven and Charles peeked in and joined in on the conversation.

"How did he take it?" Scott asked.

Peter grinned. "Still too calmly. Sometime he's going to have a mental breakdown about it."

Raven rolled her eyes. "Right."

\--

Another month had passed and everyone was still trying to get used to the change in relationship dynamic. In the past month, Charles had gone for it and kissed Erik- which turned out to be an awkward ordeal that was also perfect for both of them. 

But come on.

Peter had just gotten used to having _one_ dad. It would take a bit longer to get used to Charles having sex every night with his father.

(Not every night.)

(Not Wednesday.)

\--

"I'm glad you're... here, Pietro."

Peter bit his lip to hold back a grin. "I'm glad, too. Thanks for not killing me."

**Author's Note:**

> Ugh that lame ending tho
> 
> Please leave Kudos/Comments if you liked it. ))


End file.
